


Don't be afraid

by candlelight27



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Biting, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Hair-pulling, Mentions of Slavery, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nudity, Outdoor Sex, Smut, Spit As Lube, Spit Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlelight27/pseuds/candlelight27
Summary: Harald is chasing you because you have stolen something from him. Of course, when he finds you he wants a compensation...





	Don't be afraid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifinkufreaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/gifts).



> This comes from a dream I had where Harald was chasing me because he wanted to kill me, and some perverted minds in tumblr suggested to transform it into a fanfic... This is what it turned into. I hope you enjoy this monstrosity.

He was right behind you. You could hear the crack and crunch of twigs and dried leaves. Your chest was heaving, your heart was pounding so hard against your ribs it hurt. He was enjoying hunting for you. He had kept his movements slow so as to let you believe you could escape him. Instead, you had cornered yourself on a secluded clearing.

You has tried running away, your feet and skirts stained in mud the proof of your attempt. Yet as a result, you were exhausted, lost in a place with nowhere to hide. You stood there, looking at the rocks blocking any path, the lack of trees that left you exposed. You squeeze your fists shut.

“Have you given up?” Harald whispered, close to your ear.

Tears formed on the corner of your eyes when you felt the cold blade of his knife. Whereas you didn’t want to die, it was not death what you dreaded most. It was the king you had seen commit one thousand atrocities who terrorised you. His victims cried and begged, the mere memory turning your stomach. You hadn’t been afraid of him in the past. On the contrary, you searched his face in the feasts to refill his jar after your owner decided to join his army. But your crime changed your situation.

The pressure of the metal increased, still not cutting through your skin.

“You have something that is mine.” He said in an amused voice. “Give it back to me.”

You raised your arm and opened your palm. There shined the object of your despair, an elegant silver ring. It had a looped pattern that resembled a snake. Its craft was worth more than a month of food. He took it between his fingers, rolling it, and bared his teeth like the predator he was. You expected him to end your life once he had got what he wanted; instead he moved to face you. He moved his weapon away, however you knew better than to run away again.

You damned the gods. While you looked broken by the chase, he was the portrait of pure greatness. His pale blue tunic was suited for the highest of rituals and jewels decorated his fingers and the braids in his loose dark hair. His expression seemed calm, an eerie smile grazing his lips. You gulped, unsure of why it soothed and disturbed you at the same time. Was this a divine beast sent to punish you for your recklessness?

His stare was burning you. A light tremble appeared on your hands and refused to go. Even if you had hoped for your king’s attention in the past, in one of those fantasies to shun your day to day, destiny had twisted that wish. You nearly regretted every night you craved his presence.

Harald placed the ring inside his clothes. His hand travelled to your jaw with a tight grasp, his digits dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

“Now what should I do with a thief like you?”

You had nothing but silence for him. Your mind was clouded, unable articulate a sound. Finally, you burst into tears under his intense watch. Each word coming out of his mouth deepened the pain of uncertainty.

“Why do you cry?” He asked irritated. “You were let free after your owner turned out a traitor, and then you steal from me. A simple jewel, a meaningless object within my vast power.” His thumb wiped one of the wet sides of your face. “Yet you dared to affront me.”

You lowered your look. Fear was starting to quiet down, for you had already assimilated your fate, to be replaced by a numb anger. It angered you, your everlasting will to please him, your helplessness, the power he held over you, the ongoing thrill that shouldn’t have been there.

He stepped closer. So close that you could almost smell the fresh blood of the recent execution.

“I really liked you, more than anyone else. You have disappointed me.”

A spark of boldness lit by the indignation invaded your being, and the capacity of speaking returned to you. Nothing would worsen, therefore there was nothing to lose.

“What should I have done, then?” You smiled bitterly. “To starve in the forest and let my body feed the wolves? Your brother made it clear that if I didn’t go he’d kill me. He deemed me a traitor. Had I sold the ring, at least I would have the possibility to survive the winter.”

His rough hands left you, but his proximity was not lessened.

“I see you have found your tongue.” He laughed, another sign of distress. “You could have asked for help. You didn’t. Since when have slaves been so proud?” You turned your head, but he made you look at him. “I’m not going to kill you. I never was. I have to admit, you still tempt me to be weak.”

“What does that mean?” You sniffed. At least your cried had stopped, even though the shameful attraction you felt for him was growing.

“Prove your loyalty to me. And I might even forget your punishment for stealing this ring.”

You reflected on his offering. You both suspected and trusted him; you were fully aware that you were unconsciously accepting any excuse to relent into his wishes.

“What about your brother?”

“He is not the king, is he?”

You shook your head. A deep breath entered your lungs.

“My loyalty, you say?” What to do was not a mystery. It was something you had longed for, something you still longed. Despite that you never imagined it this way, how else would you have gained the attention of the king Harald Finehair? You had always been at his reach, being the slave to one of his subjects, but never once he gave signs of what he thought of you.

However what he required was clear. First, you undid the laces on the front of your worn dress. His eyes widened in shock, and for a second you doubted, but he let you continue. He displayed his satisfaction openly at the moment you slid the rough fabric down your shoulders. He took in every inch of you, savouring the outcome of his challenge. You rolled the rest down your torso, and in one go you let it fall to your ankles.

You didn’t miss the utter lust and adoration in his countenance. It was intimidating; you had never got that reaction. For everyone, you were less than the furniture they were eating upon. He approached you. It didn’t matter if his manners were overwhelming, you were not going to flee anymore. The pads of his fingers met the lines imprinted in your skin. They were the memories of your last owner.

“How do you feel knowing the man who did this now lays dead on my hall?” He questioned. He moved his hand from your neck towards your navel, forming a timid shiver.

“It… it feels good.”

Your nipples hardened. Being at your king’s will was exciting you. Whatever he did, rejecting him was not an option. You had to endure his whims, and the more you thought about it, the more you yearned it. You realised fear had taken part in the moisture between your legs. He closed his hands on both of your shoulders. You straightened your back at the sudden contact.

“Is this what you are going to do to prove your loyalty? To give yourself to me?” You nodded. “I let you go as a free woman yet you come to me as if you were a slave.”

“Does that not show my commitment?”

His pupils turned the darkest shade of black before he leant in to kiss you. Your teeth crashed, and his tongue quickly followed. He didn’t waste time, already smothering you with his thirst. He explored every corner of your mouth; you let him, the sensation of being desired by the king numbing your mind even more than fear. Harald delighted in your taste, in the warm sweetness of your saliva, he drank you, no longer afraid of breaking you.

He lowered his hands and grabbed your waist. His grip was desperate, which led you to finally muster the courage to kiss him back.

Ignoring the burn of his bear, you moved your face closer, crushing your noses. Your lips were fused. He kept his assault as dominant as before, but now your tongue danced with his. His clothes brushed the nakedness of your body.

Without any warning he stopped. He parted from you while narrowing his eyes. His smirk was teasing.

“Tell me. Were you just a slave, or were you your owner’s slut?” He asked cruelly. “You seem used to this.”

He was testing you through fake mockery. Still, you couldn’t contain your rage, so you spat at him. It landed on his eyebrow. With a nimble wipe he cleaned it. His clear eyes turned the shade of a storm.

“Don’t insult me.”

He covered your throat with his palm.

“This is why you were always under a lash. You will have to learn to control yourself if you stay with me. At least while in public. Otherwise… you are lucky your attitude just swells my dick even more.” He tightened his hold. The dread repeating itself, different, enjoyable somehow. His teeth sank in your shoulder, hard, yet not hard enough to draw blood. Harald chuckled at your raw moan. “How I will enjoy this. I’m going to mark you, but with pleasure instead of pain. That shall tie you to your king.”

To prove himself, he took a handful of your hair. He pulled it, freeing the expanse of your neck. He left another bite on your clavicle, followed by a long lick. Harald loved how your tenderness yielded to his rough treatment and he found himself nibbling anywhere he could reach.

Your respiration sped, the faintest of whimpers leaving your mouth. The hand that was not holding you in place started roaming your body. Your king pinched your nipple and twisted. A rush of heat nestled on your core. He rolled the peak of your breast, firm yet unhurried. You tried to waggle your form, but he had you still by a harder tug on your hair.

“Such a fierce little beast you are, yet you are here, allowing me have my way with you. Am I pleasuring you that much? Is it exciting to have all the attention of your king?” He hadn’t stopped his ministrations as he talked, his voice dark and low.

“Shut up…” You managed to mutter between sighs. He laughed.

His digits greeted your soaked sex. He drew a line along your slit, causing your thighs to clench. You looked at him. His clothed frame in front of you made you feel vulnerable, yet the fulfilment you felt completed the satisfaction he was instigating within you. There was a thin line separating your emotions, and you couldn’t tell apart them anymore after that long, shifting day.

“I believe this is my fault.” Harald commented at the same moment he pushed the eager end of his index into your heat.

You didn’t have time to realize what he was doing. Whilst his hand abandoned your hair, his arm wrapped around your waist. You felt the gentle moss of the ground on your back and the weight of him upon you.

His mouth descended on yours with a grunt. He captured your lips in a mouthful and deepened in you. Another finger was added, both prodding into your entrance. You opened your mouth to moan, relieve some of the tension he was forming, but he caught your tongue. He sucked it, and whereas you fretted falling under his spell, you gave in. You never knew possible warriors of his class would even contemplate any pleasure but their own. However, this man’s mere touch was bringing you out of your senses.

He fiddled with you insides, figuring out how to contort each fibre of you out of joy. He distanced himself to observe your reactions.

“Are you going to cum? Just from my fingers?”

His own length was painfully throbbing against his breeches. He was rejoicing in the way you swayed your hips, your legs, your arms, all naked and laid out for him, in how the different noises you let out created a symphony as he wandered the corners of your aching core.

Harald spat on your sex and spread it along your juices. Then, he put in another. The stretch was delicious, his fingers wriggling, searching, finding. His thumb reached for the bundle on top.

“Go on. Your king desires to watch you cum…” He tapped your clitoris and drew lazy circles. The pressure was being transformed into ecstasy; you doubted you could resist anymore. Your hips were swinging on their own back and forth.

Harald admired the jiggle of your flesh. He was unable to divert his attention from you. Distracted as he was, he increased his pace. The incredible feelings he was creating seemed to have no end. You thought you had lost it as he ventured to hit every spot, up, down, on the sides, but it was when he opened out his digits inside you that you released a cry. And he repeated it until your face was overcame by your intense orgasm.

It was an enthralling defeat. His smile was as bright as the gone sun. Without further interaction, he grabbed you again and flipped you over. A hand on your belly commanded you to get on all fours, and you avidly complied.

You heard how he undid his breeches, all urged to take you. He rubbed his erection on your arse.

“Tell me, you wanton thing. Has anyone given you more pleasure than me?” Your only response was a groan. “Speak.” He ordered.

“No.”

“Will you come back to me, then? Like the true faithful and devoted servant you are to your king?” Harald slid his member in your wet entrance. He relished in the feeling of your walls welcoming him. Your sensitive folds tensed, your nerves on the edge.

“Yes! I’m yours!” You shouted.

He was content with your answer, and as a reward he thrust in you. The cheeks of your rear encountered the crease of his clothing. The solely image of your bared body sent a rush of fire to his guts.

Harald had took you like he marched into a battle: ruthless and determined to win. He had placed his hands on your waist and slammed you back to him. You were completely filled, a panting mess. The noise of skin slapping accompanied the unashamed grunts of the king. He loved the enthusiasm you put on taking him, your greedy self, seeking another high he would keenly grant you.

All the same, it was not enough for him. He wanted more. Because of this one of his hands returned to your hair and pulled you, until you were resting just on your knees. Your behind was completely pressed against him, the dirty sensation of being at his mercy accenting your arousal.

His ramming was having its effect on you. You were close to your end. The little push you needed came with his groping, that had been centred on your breast. At the last moment, as he was himself on the verge of exploding, he moved to your most delicate bundle, flicking it with expertise. You darted your arms to grab him, your insides fastening his hard length. He spilt his seed inside of you and he kept shoving into you until he softened.

You caught your breath, calmed your heart. A light breeze made you remember where you were and who you were with. To your surprise, Harald was offering you the tunic you had discarded earlier. He had a warm look on his icy irises. He licked his lips, unsure if he would ever forget your taste, before he spoke. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you were terrified of his next words.

“Get up and get dressed.” You took the dress and pressed it against your chest, nodding at his instructions. “We are going back.”

“Are you sure?” You timidly wondered. Did you really have a way back? “Will you let me serve you again?”

“Tonight you will sit beside me and my brother during the feast. You will no longer serve.” Your eyes widened at what he implied with his statement. “You must know one thing, my dear thief. The ring you stole was going to be my wedding gift to my future wife. Now it is you who must carry that burden.” His laugh was music to your ears, yet you were still confused, and oddly excited. “And if you are so worried about Halfdan, maybe you should prove him your loyalty too.” You found the nerve to answer the truth; you’d always be a slave to his desires.

“I… I will do only what my king wishes.”


End file.
